The Seductress and the Snape
by Rita Arabella Black
Summary: The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Marisol Grimaldi has the Hogwarts faculty bewitched, especially a certain potions' master.


**A/N: This is a prequel to my store **_**The Dark Secret**_** that I posted 11/25. I couldn't get the story out of my head. Alas, no Charlie Weasley. R.A.B**

_Based on characters created by J. K. Rowling_

The Seductress and the Snape

Where she had come from, no one really knew. She showed up one day walking beside Professor Dumbledore. Himself, charming and engaging; herself, smiling that secret smile and always listening intently. It was the first before-start-of-term faculty luncheon and hoe-down that Professor Dumbledore was so fond of, in which major changes to the curriculum, discussions of what was accomplished last year, and the introduction of the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher were set to a delightful lunch and the sounds of chamber music. Professor Dumbledore enjoyed the word "hoe-down," so the name stuck.

Apparently she was the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Her name, Professor Dumbledore introduced, was Marisol Grimaldi. She was beautiful and mysterious. Her hair was a vibrant chestnut brown, with golden rays of blonde shimmering in the light. And her eyes. They weren't exactly brown, more like amber that shone when she smiled. The light in her eyes made everyone around her want to make her smile just so they could be rewarded.

"Professor Grimaldi has generously agreed to join our faculty this year at great personal risk. She works in covert operations and has for many years been involved with a secret underground mission authorized by the French Ministry of Magic. She is, as they say, _à se cacher pour éviter la detection_ before her next assignment. Her special talent is the ability to read and detect the thoughts of others, so," he laughed quietly, "mind your mind."

Marisol graced Professor Dumbledore with a dazing smile. The women applauded politely while the men, even Mr. Filch, who flattened down his thinning long hair, stared appreciatively. Even Professor Binns, who had long been dead, took notice. Professor Kettleburn, who was still nursing the loss of his left hand, managed to kick tiny Professor Flitwick out of the way to offer Marisol a seat. The only one who wasn't watching her appreciatively, or so the rest thought, was Professor Snape. He had the same dour expression on his face that he saved for his least favorite students: One of distain and indifference.

Naturally, Marisol made her way to the vacant seat by Professor Snape. She bowed her head politely and smiled only for him. There was an audible sigh of disappointment from the rest of the faculty. The only hint of acknowledgement from Snape was the clenching of his jaw.

But oh, he noticed her. His face would not betray the racing of his heart. He was an expert at disguising his emotions. He was living a double life; carrying with him a secret even Professor Dumbledore was unaware. His lost love had made him cold and unfeeling, or so he thought. When he looked at Marisol, he didn't see the bleakness that clouded his soul; he saw the sunlight in her hair and the sparkle in her eyes; the sensuous warmth of her full lips.

Marisol picked up a piece of orange from her plate. All eyes seem to be hovering on her lips as she delicately ate the slice, juices escaping from the corner of her mouth. Four male hands made a grab at their own napkins as if they were going to wipe the delicious juice from her mouth. They sighed collectively as her tongue flitted to the side of her mouth. Her finger dabbed the rest of the liquid and she casually sucked the edge of her finger. She appeared to be unaware of the commotion she was causing.

"So, Professor Snape," she said even more casually, "Severus, isn't it?"

He nodded once.

"You're the potions' master, yes?" It really wasn't a question, more of a confirmation statement.

Again he nodded. There was one bead of sweat gliding down his head toward his temple. Would she see it? She was supposed to be good at reading people and revealing their innermost thoughts. What could she see in him? He wondered.

She seemed to be aware of his thoughts. She smiled a secret smile and looked at him through her long eye lashes. She absently touched his cool hand. He jumped. She smiled again.

"Would you pass me the salt," she paused. "Severus?"

The sound of his name went through him like a sword, deep into his heart. Still his face did not betray him. She was getting frustrated, he thought, because his heart reveals nothing.

What heart? He asked himself ironically. There is nothing left but the cold black stone of revenge.

She had given up trying to start a conversation with him, so she turned her face away and spoke to Professor McGonagall. Severus felt like the sun had hidden behind a dark cloud when she turned away from him. Minerva was engaging and quite pleasant. They seem to have much in common, and Marisol asked many pointed questions about transfiguration and her years at Hogwarts.

As the faculty rose for the final toast of the new school year, Marisol leaned in closely to Snape, brushing his hand with hers. She looked like she was speaking to him, but she didn't say anything at all. Her eyes caught his and they stared at each other, a cryptic smile crossing her lips. For a split second, Severus closed his eyes and his expression was readable, but only to her. She let it pass. As the faculty streamed out of the great dining hall, Marisol took Professor Dumbledore's offered hand. They smiled the same secret smile and together he escorted her to her sleeping quarters, leaving the others, quite shaken behind.

Albus was all politeness and grace. He showed her to her classroom and the teachers' lounge. After the tour of the castle, including the four houses, he said good day and left her alone to unpack.

One of the house elves had already unpacked for her and put out her bed clothing. She went to her writing desk to write a letter, when there was a soft knock on the door. Opening the door, she smiled.

"Hello Professor," she said. "Please come in." She stood back as the hooded figure stepped across her threshold in a sweeping movement. "What can I do for you?"

Snape removed the hood that concealed his face and stood before her. He looked like his was struggling with something difficult. She waited patiently for him to speak. She left his side for a moment and poured two glasses of elf-made wine from France and handed him a crystal goblet. She sipped her wine while she waited. She toyed with the stem of the glass, but she didn't say a word.

"Why?" he said finally. "Why are you really here? I thought I'd never see you again."

She shrugged dismissively. "And yet, here I am."

He balled his sleek long fingers into fists, trying desperately to control himself. "You must leave," he said. "I forbid you to stay here."

She chuckled. "Forbid? No, you don't have any control over what I do. You made that very clear the last time we spoke. Wasn't it something like, 'I don't care what you do, I want you out of my life?' Or something like that." She was amused that she remembered so vividly their last encounter. Severus was always struggling with his emotions. He was very deep and dark. But she saw a very pale hint of light in his eyes.

"I missed you," she said quietly.

Severus closed his eyes again, wishing her to be gone; hoping this day was just a nightmare. She was a dangerous woman and for the first time, in a very, very long, around her she felt like a whole man. He wouldn't take her in his arms; he wouldn't kiss those warm pouty lips; he refused to imagine himself making love to her, hearing her cry out in passion; listening to her shutter with pleasure and calling out his name.

She took one step toward him, and he stepped back, desperately trying to keep his emotions in check. "Please," was all she said. With an anguished cry, he reached for her and took her into his arms. She went to him willingly. His mouth met hers, crushing his hard mouth into her lips so full and soft. She moaned with pleasure as their kiss deepened. He held her tighter, as if she would disappear into nothingness if he let her go.

Then suddenly, without warning he broke away from her, shaking. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"No," she moaned. "Please love me, Severus. This isn't a betrayal. You can still love her, but love me as well. I cannot live another day without your touch. Please," she pleaded. She reached for him, but he tore himself away and ran out of her room.

Tears streamed down her cheeks. She wiped them away as she sat down on her bed. He'd be back, she said to herself. And he wouldn't resist her next time.


End file.
